


There's Nothing Like Doing Nothing (With You)

by spideysmjs



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, MJ's a Romantic TBH, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/pseuds/spideysmjs
Summary: “We’ll quit for a weekend,” he says in between long kisses. “Do nothing for the next two days.”“I’ll give you the best do nothing weekend of your life," she says.Peter comes home after an Avengers training camp.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 16
Kudos: 134





	There's Nothing Like Doing Nothing (With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Nothing" by Bruno Major.

It’s been a long week.

Peter’s back is aching, sore from the strenuous Avengers bootcamp he’d endured every day for seven days. He – Tony – is taking advantage of Peter’s unlimited PTO at his job making sure he’s in tip-top shape for the next mission, whenever it may be. 

It’s always random with the Avengers. He’ll be in the middle of working on his next deliverable or consulting sustainable strategies with a new company when Peter gets a call from his superhero superior, telling him he’d only have the rest of that workday before having to fly off to Berlin or Prague or another European country to assist in one thing or another.

But after this week of training, Tony promises, he’s relieved of Avengers' duties for at least two weeks, which is wonderful. Because there’s nothing he wants to do other than be with MJ. 

He considers extending his time off for work – using the Spider-Man card would guarantee an accepted request, but Peter refuses to take advantage of his second identity even if his co-workers and supervisors never seem to let go of the fact they work with the hero himself. 

And when he gets home from the compound late Friday night, MJ has the same exact idea. 

“It’d be unfortunate if you accidentally broke your leg and needed an extra day to recover,” she suggests, kissing him on the cheek as she welcomes him back home, keeping her promise of waiting for him to come home. 

“It’d heal in about 8 hours,” he pulls her in longer, arms wrapped around her waist as if he’d forgotten the way their bodies fit perfectly against each other in the week they’d been away from one another, kissing MJ on the lips.

“You have no lying bone in your body, do you?” she sinks into his kiss before leading him to their bedroom. 

“I need to shower,” he reminds her as she attempts to pull him onto the mattress. “I’m smelly.” 

“You’re always smelly.”

“Hey,” he shakes his head at her remark, walking toward their bathroom. MJ follows him, watching him undress before she wraps her arms from behind him. “The faster I shower, the faster I’ll be in bed right next to you.” 

“I always knew you didn’t love me,” she whines, never typically expressing her attachment to Peter, but after reading her double messages about how law school’s kicking her ass, about how America needs to restructure the educational system, and about how much she misses him – it's evident and completely valid. He turns around, enveloping her in his arms again, the feel of her hands on his bare skin sending him shivers down his spine. 

“Em,” he moves her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll be ten minutes.” 

She huffs, rolling her eyes playfully, dragging her feet back to the bed as Peter remembers why this is his favorite thing about being gone for a while – having the privilege of witnessing MJ’s softness at its highest, feeling it in her touch, hearing it in her voice. 

He takes seven minutes, drying up as quick as possible to join MJ back on the bed, who’s pretending to be reading her new book of the week, Peter being able to distinguish between her genuine reading eyes and her blank stare that typically means Peter has to playfully fight for her attention. 

“I’ve missed you,” he mutters, laying next to her in fresh boxers.

She hums, flipping a page Peter knows she hasn’t read. 

“Em.”

“Hm,” she feigns stoicism. He places his fingers lightly on the top of her book, pulling it away from her face. She looks at him, a smirk creeping up on her lips. “Yes, dear?” 

“Pay attention to me,” he frowns.

“M’busy. Have a midterm on Wednesday,” she shrugs. 

“That’s a fictional novel.”

“Today’s my Catch Up on _Fun_ Reading Day. Can’t be off schedule.” 

“Then read to me,” he smiles. She looks at him over the lenses of her reading glasses, smiling at the way he’s successfully flipped the situation around to impress her. She sets her book down on the bedside table, turning to him. 

“Hey, there,” she says.

“There she is.” 

“I missed you too. I think you should quit your job, and I think I should drop out of school.” 

“Should I stop being Spider-Man, too?” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she shrugs, lifting herself up to wrap her legs on either side of Peter, straddling him. She leans down and kisses him, soft and sweet before he pulls her in closer with his hands pressed on her back.

She grinds down on his hips, Peter tensing at the friction between his boxers and her silk shorts, wondering how long he should wait before pulling them off. 

“We’ll quit for a weekend,” he says in between long kisses. “Do nothing for the next two days.” 

“I’ll give you the best do nothing weekend of your life,” her lips hovering over the nape of his neck, his favorite spot for her tongue to glide over. He yawns, stretching his arms out as she works on his skin. “Tired?” 

“No,” he lies, breath hitching as his senses overload with her touch. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you sleep well,” she whispers into his ears before nibbling it, “ _tiger_.”

He watches MJ lower herself down his body, his racing heart full of love. 

Peter wakes up when MJ opens the blackout curtains May bought them last Christmas, something about Peter being sensitive to light and needing as much sleep as he can get. It’s been a blessing and a curse, sometimes accidentally waking up for work but also being able to sleep in on the weekends.

“Rise and shine,” she greets him, crawling back into his arms. “You’ve been sleeping for a while. But it gave time to run to the store.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Time for breakfast,” MJ answers, “which I made already.” 

Peter holds back laughter at the thought of his girlfriend attempting to work a stove, wondering what concoction of meals she’s created for the day and debating whether or not it’ll upset his stomach. 

“You’re an asshole,” she lightly shoulders him. He chuckles, using his arms to bring her closer and lift her body on top of him. 

“What’d you make?” he crinkles his nose. 

“Clearly, poison,” she climbs off of Peter, pulling him out of bed and into the kitchen area. There’s assorted fruits, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, and coffee in the pot. “See? Nothing complicated.” 

“It looks great, Em,” he kisses her nose before sitting down. 

“Eat up,” she comments, “got a big day planned for us.” 

Peter lifts his head up from the food, curious as to what MJ was suggesting. 

“We’re watching movies and laying around all day,” she smiles. “And pretty much anything else that’s accessible in the apartment that doesn’t revolve around saving the day or studying.” 

“That does take some energy,” he jokes. As he finishes up breakfast, Peter watches MJ picking at the fruit on her plate and making faces at the grapes rolling around before stabbing it with her fork and eating it. He loves her, even the parts she doesn’t know he notices.   
  
They curl up on the couch, MJ tucked in between Peter’s legs with a blanket wrapped around her. She’d always hog the blanket, only offering Peter her body warmth to keep him cozy. But that’s all Peter needs, anyway.

After the credits of _My Best Friend’s Wedding_ roll, MJ shifts in between his legs, looking at him. 

“Would you do that?” she asks him. 

“Do what?” he plays with her hair. 

“If I ended up marrying someone else, would you do that? Try to stop it?” she details her question. He looks at her, pondering an answer, wondering if there’s really a right answer to a trick question like that. 

“We wouldn’t even be in a situation like that,” he answers.

“Okay, but if…” she mumbles. “I don’t know. What if things don’t work out?” 

He frowns, scooping her up closer to his chest. “Em, I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Peter. I was just wondering, in a hypothetical situation…” 

Peter kisses the top of her head. “I’d let you be happy.” 

“Thanks,” she breathes into his chest. “For the record, I’d do the same thing.”

“I know you would. But this won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“How?” she probes him. He doesn’t let her insisting arguments bring him down, knowing that MJ loves conversations like these, loves pressing Peter’s buttons. 

“Because we’re here, in _our_ apartment, abandoning life’s problems for a day together by doing nothing,” he pauses, “and there’s no one I’d rather do this with than you.” 

She bites her lip, her eyes failing at hiding a smile. They move onto the next movie, a psychological thriller that MJ’s been talking about for a while, yet Peter can’t help but think about MJ’s question. There’s no insecurity lingering in the back of his head – instead, a new feeling in the pit of his stomach, similar to when he prepared a “promposal” for MJ or when he’d ask if she wanted to move in together after graduating college.

In that moment, he understands that he wants to take the next step with MJ – to marry her, sometime after she’s finished with school and when they’ve had a longer conversation about it. He files the thought away, but the desire to be with her forever stays. 

  
  
They move on from watching movies, stretching their limbs after staying put for hours. 

“I’m hungry,” Peter says, looking out the window and seeing the sun’s brightest shine start to fade as the moon tries to fill in that gap. The sun was setting soon, both MJ and Peter losing track of the time they didn’t even look at in the first place not once touching their phones since waking up. 

“You’re always hungry,” MJ quips. “Don’t expect me to cook another meal, my talents are limited to breakfast foods.” 

“We can order takeout,” he suggests. 

“Sure.” 

“What are you feeling?” 

“There’s this new Greek place I always walk by on the way to campus,” she answers, grabbing her phone for the first time and dialing the store’s number. She has her hands on her hips, resting softly against the kitchen counter, her hair even frizzier from Peter’s hands massaging circles on her scalp throughout the two films. He hears the phone ring a few times before the employee answers, and MJ paces around the small of their apartment placing an order while using her manufactured, customer service voice that Peter always makes fun of. 

He thinks of the way his girlfriend is kind to others, especially minimum wage workers, always providing an air of compassion to them. In high school, MJ was always marked as a blunt person and a little rude. But no one really knew what she was really like, not even Peter – until he started catching her stare at him at the cafeteria, in gym class, and during academic decathlon practice. 

She’s intelligent and honest, honesty being often mistaken as rude. MJ doesn’t hold herself back from the truth; she asks questions abruptly, a thing that threw Peter off more often than not. Now, Peter’s just used to it, knowing that if she doesn’t do so, then something’s really wrong because MJ never refuses to speak her mind. 

“What are you looking at, weirdo?” she laughs, tossing her phone back on the table next to his. 

“You.” 

“Yeah?” she walks over to him, connecting their bodies with a swift loop of her arms around his neck. 

“Always.”

“Good,” she kisses him. “Food will be here in an hour.”

Another kiss.

“Whatever shall we do, Peter?” she raises her brow.

“I could think of a few things,” he presses his lips on hers again, scooping her from the floor and bringing her to their bedroom, letting the door close behind them.  
  
  


“It was alright,” MJ reviews the meal, tossing the bones of her chicken in the trash, leaving her plates and utensils in the sink, with a slight groan reflecting the usual dread of washing dishes. 

“I liked it,” Peter follows suit, but turns on the sink, shooing her away and committing to cleaning, reminding her that it’s better than using plastic. She sighs, says she remembers, and tells him that although he works with a sustainable company, that she’s aware of the growing issue of climate change. 

Peter thinks about the way he and MJ have the best conversations when it comes to anything. His work, her classes, movies, the Avengers, _anything_. The two don’t hold back, even if their opinions don’t always align – which mostly comes from arguing about movies. It’s healthy and open, but it didn’t start like that. 

They’ve worked on themselves and each other since that day on the Tower bridge years ago. They’ve had their number of fights, sometimes the night ends with MJ requesting space, which Peter initially didn’t understand having always believed in solving the issue right then and there.

Space helps clear her mind as well as gives him the time to think before he word vomits. 

Their first fight was scary, something about Peter assuming MJ didn’t want to go to prom, but when he looks back on it, he can’t really remember what exactly happened, though he can remember the lessons he’s learned from it and from the others that they’ve had. 

It’s always learning with MJ, and he appreciates that. He appreciates her and her patience – the patience she saves for him and only him. And she does that all the time with other things, revealing a new personality for Peter that no one can see outside of their life. He’s privileged to know a different kind of MJ, an MJ that laughs at his corny jokes or takes her time explaining concepts of society that he doesn’t understand the first time around.

Her smile, her look, her touch – all different and unique for Peter. It’s not something he mentions, knowing that she’d feel tense if he points out her change in attitude. It’s just something he knows, accepts, and appreciates. 

When he finishes the dishes, fingers wrinkly from the water, he joins MJ on the couch whose setting up a video game. 

“Mario Kart?” he crosses his arms. 

“Yup, so you can lose,” she laughs maniacally. 

“You’re on,” he challenges her. 

They prop themselves on the couch with a significant air of distance between them because one time MJ declared that she lost because he distracts her. Unsurprisingly, she’s competitive, screaming and yelling at the screen when Peter hits her with a red shell and begging him to not use his blue one when she’s in first place. 

He doesn’t listen, and he just laughs at her demise. In the last lap, she redeems herself, getting first place again. Peter’s not taking the game as seriously as MJ, already accepting his position in fourth place before the lap ends. He glances at her once in a while, seeing the way her eyes squint in her glasses, forehead clenched in concentration and lips pressed tight.

She’s wonderful, in every sense of the word. 

MJ raises her remote in the sky, arms flailing at her victory. “I win, loser.” 

“Are we surprised?” he sighs.

“Never.” 

“I think we both won today,” he inches closer to her now that the game’s over. “Because we didn’t do shit.” 

“It is a Saturday full of victories,” she agrees, curling into him – always fitting in his limbs every time, despite any complicated position. She kisses his cheek, sniffing him.

“You smell like olive oil and Greek yogurt,” she comments. 

“At least it’s not sweat from bootcamp?” he offers, sniffing her back. “You smell like chicken and salad.” 

“Like I said, a Saturday full of victories.” She untangles herself from his body, lifting off from the couch. “Wait right here.” 

She runs to their room and shuts the door, the sound of a lock turning. Anticipating her next step, Peter’s leg shakes from the nerves. It’s not a bad thing, Peter knows, but he wants to figure out what the next part of their day is – an idea already looming in his head as the main menu screen of Mario Kart plays on loop.

After ten minutes, she steps out in her robe, nodding her head back into their bathroom. When he walks in, he sees the bedroom dressed in small candles with rose petals scattered on the mattress. She pulls him into the bathroom, presenting a drawn bath with bubbles nearly overflowing. 

“I told you, I’d give you the best do nothing weekend ever,” she winks, dropping her robe to the floor. It doesn’t take him long to remove his clothes and join her in the tub. 

It’s small and cramped, but their bodies touch like it’s normal. He massages her feet in the warmth of the water, the aroma of eucalyptus trees putting them both in a relaxed trance. 

“We should do this more often,” he hums. 

“We won’t have another free weekend in weeks,” she sighs. “I have midterms practically until finals. And you have your Spider-Man thing.” 

“I’m just saying – we can make time. After you’re done with your finals, I’ll give _you_ the best do nothing weekend of your life.” 

“That’s a strong promise. Today’s been a great day.” 

“I don’t disagree,” he tickles the back of her legs, earning a deserved splash in the face. Their little quarrel in the tub leads to a wet bathroom floor and bubbles dripping on the walls before MJ decides to end the battle. 

When they rinse off in a shower, they stand in silence, taking turns scrubbing soap into their backs. His body shivers as he waits for MJ to rinse off, but he feels the heat from watching drops of water trace down the curves of her body. She’s so beautiful anywhere, doing anything. 

Waking Peter up in the morning with a bright voice. Playing with fruit as they eat their breakfast. Curled up in his lap with her hair cascading down her shoulders. Ordering takeout with her uncanny customer voice. Cursing at the TV even though she’s already winning Mario Kart. Closing her eyes in the shower as she gets rid of all the suds off her body.

It’s unbelievable how lucky Peter is being able to look at her all the time. 

When they dry off, he lifts her by the waist as she wraps her legs around him, taking her to their bed to make love for the third time in the past 24 hours, each time still feeling new – an opportunity to explore each other’s bodies

It had been a long week for Peter, but the moment he walked into their apartment, he was able to lock himself in the space with MJ and block out the white noise of life. Peter loves MJ, and being with her in a way that no one else has the chance to experience was worth every single worry of life that pressed against his shoulders every day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @spideysmjs / Tumblr: @briens
> 
> Comments/kudos appreciated ♥


End file.
